Living in my Memory
by Anakin Bester
Summary: Queen Horn remembers the Christmases she spent with her children after she's lost Lute and had to give up Flute.


Living In My Memory

Smiling Horn went to the large gothic window, which opened to her garden below. Gray, winter light filtered in through the frosted panes, greeting Horn along with a touch frigid air. Her gaze fell across the exquisite garden and she sighed deeply. Every tree and bush had been dusted with snow. Ice surrounded each bare branch, encircling the light brown twigs in a coat of shimmering iridescence.  The pristine snow on the garden floor, though, bore the marks of dozens of little feet. A group of children had taken a break from their studies and now scampered noisily about. Shrill screams suddenly arose from below as the boys decided to rage a snowball war against the girls. A faint smile played across Queen Horn's tired face.

            "Wait now!" Lute would cry out. "The boys can't gang up on the ladies like that." Smiling down at frowning young children, Lute would point out that it would hardly be a fair fight because the boys far outnumbered the girls. 

            Queen Horn could practically hear her son's squeal as the children, after considering his advice, decided to throw their snowballs at him instead. Her son's clear, light-hearted laughter would ring through the garden, warming everyone's heart. Horn brushed back a lock of ebony hair and clutched her present tightly against her chest. A book of magic that she had come across purely by chance in the oldest, most abandoned part of her library. Lute would love it. 

With trembling hands, Horn reached out beside her and tightly clenched her fist around the soft, golden wrapping paper. She took the scissors clumsily and began to cut an irregular line across the papers unblemished surface. 

********        

"Mommy, mommy" Lute cried running into Horn's room. With a loving laugh, Horn scooped her son into her arms and pinched his chubby cheeks. "What is it, Precious One?" 

            "I can do it now." Then Lute stuck out his tongue in concentration. Slowly, the child's hand began to glow a soft golden color. As the young boy concentrated, the light formed into a glowing ball and floated into the air. The globe of light solidified and fell into Horn's hand. "It's a Christmas present, mommy. Merry Christmas!"

            "Lute," Horn exclaimed proudly, "that's wonderful! Thank you so much."

 Lute laughed and hugged his mother. "I'm gonna learn every kinda of magic there is!" The little boy exclaimed determinedly.  Horn laughed and ruffled the child's soft black hair. 

            "I'm sure you will, Precious," she murmured as she kissed his forehead. 

*********

            Now, the young mother fumbled with the tape. She tried to tear off a small enough pieces to be discreet, yet hold the paper together. Her shaking hands, however, made the task nearly impossible. The water welling up in her eyes did not help either.  Everything in front of her swam into indeterminable shapes. 

********

            "Is my present so interesting that you've forgotten to eat?" Horn asked in a lightly teasing tone as she set a tray of food down before her son. Lute stared at the ham slices, boiled apples, and gingerbread men sheepishly.  Then, the adolescent smiled up at his mother

"It's a wonderful book, Mom. There's so much in here that I hadn't even considered before!" Sitting on the edge of the table, Horn listened intently as Lute began to describe the wonders he'd found inside. His eyes bright with excitement he went over each spell in detail that revealed the delight he took in learning them. 

********

            Horn ignored the ache in her heart as she looked over the present she had wrapped. It looked awful. The edges of the book had torn through the wrapper. Misplaced tape dulled the golden gleam of the paper, and in some places, tape had torn away the gold design entirely, exposing the ragged white paper underneath. No longer did the paper appeared flawlessly smooth; now, her own incompetent wrapping job had crumbled every inch. In frustration, Queen Horn rammed her fist into an unfortunate table leg that stood near her. The table above her shuddered from the forceful impact. A soft chime caught Horn's attention, and looking up, she saw an ornament pause for a brief second on the table's edge before plunging over. The rose pink ball shimmered, catching the winter light as it soared ever closer to the ground. Then the crystal ball met with the ground and burst into hundreds of precious shards. Each sparkled with it's own light for a brief, beautiful second then the radiance died, leaving only the remains of the crushed globe. With a choked sob, Horn reach out a gently picked up the destroyed ornament with tender hands.

            Though the magical light Lute had endowed the ornament with had escaped, the crystal still clung desperately to its rose coloring.

 "Baby's First..." Horn murmured, reading the inscription her son had engraved into the ornament. The word Christmas lay on the floor in a thousand pieces. The tears in Horn's eyes threatened to overflow, squeezed out by the agony that had grown in her heart.  Gingerly, Horn set the broken ornament on top of the poorly wrapped present. Staring blankly at the still life, she pressed her hand to her chest, wondering how an empty heart could hurt so much. 

Horn stood and looked out the window. Her son's beloved snow had not fallen yet. The garden laid spread out before her, brown and ugly. The wind moaned softly against the barren tree branches, crying along with the Queen. No children played on the hard frozen dirt. No one wanted to outside in the freezing, miserable weather.  The Christmas lights blinked hollowly along the dried bushes. Tears trickled down Horn's cold cheek. Christmas, a time for families to come together, for laughter, for joy, her favorite holiday, Lute's favorite holiday, yet now none of that bliss could touch her. 

Turning slowly back around, Horn looked again at her children's destroyed gifts. They would have loved them.  


End file.
